Him: [Phonecall to say “no.” He didn’t get the text that his Thursday pickup was on, per usual. He says he’s got company coming over to “rehearse” their “show.” I use “‘s because the “show” revolves around some performance piece concerning energy or some other radical new-age ideal that his Jesus complex made up that he’ll probably do at a mall food court and “rehearsal” isn’t a valid excuse to not take his kid to Chuck E Cheese, like he said (according to his son). “Rehearsal” isn’t a valid excuse because the man will be at his home, dancing around, and, bonus, it is not a means of monetary gain. If I can make my art (which does bring in some cash, by the way) as well as run a business with a child in tow, so can he. It ends with me hanging up and a long four year old face.]

Me: Just fyi, P- seemed to think you were taking him to Chuck E. Cheese. And my phone still has the sent message in it.

Him: Call me if you’d like to talk about it without hanging up on me.

Me: I don’t guess there’s anything to talk about. We’re all just disappointed we can’t do the things we planned to do, especially when you’re at home the whole night.

Him: Then I guess we don’t. I was considering how much it would distract everyone if he was here, but then you hung up on me, so I guess that’s that.

Me: I know, “work” is always more important to you than your son.

Him: Oh, she’s playing the guilt card! Nice try. Got anything better?

Me: Fact: You have more excuses to not see your son than to see him. The guilt will come when he tells you so himself.

***

Obviously he turns me into an absolute sniveling junior high snot. I own that. I know every time I hang up on him or engage the argument or text back something ridiculous I am stooping to the lowest level. I know I am not encouraging good behavior back. I can control the remarks and the tone of voice I speak or type in and I just don’t. I totally choose to not really care how mature I’m being or what the backlash will be.

P- calls down the hall to me, “Why are you so sad?!” Turns to Mr. D., “Why is everyone so sad?!” And I’m glad he doesn’t completely get it. And part of me know he does. Part of me knows that part of him knows his dad is a dud.

And perhaps I’m going to try and start doing better. Maybe. The point not being that it will improve the parts where we actually have to speak to one another in front of our (blech) offspring. The point being that speaking well makes me a better person and generally I practice what I preach. And I know I do it, a little, because I’ve never done it before. I’ve never just said the first smartass thing that comes to mind. There’s a little something to get out of my system before I put it back in time out.

Once I discovered his pattern, his I’m-going-to-CREATE-a-situation-that-makes-you-feel-as-bad-as-possible-or-really-puts-you-in-a-bind-so-I-can-have-something-to-save, I started cutting him off before he got into whatever lecture he was going to get into. Which infuriated him. Because his saving isn’t real unless there’s an audience. His saving isn’t real unless he’s had a chance to make you feel so bad you want him to save you.

I’ve always just wanted him to shut up.

Because if the manipulation is that obvious then I’ll be damned if I’m going to keep letting you put that wool hat over my eyes, I’m getting out of here.

There was so little to our relationship before we had a child (that he wanted, a lot, pre-conception) and there was practically nothing after the child.

So I regret Him entirely. I should have known better. Sure, he’s a completely different person now than when I first met him. I was relying on the reflection of his good, decent, rational friends and the throngs of people in M. that followed him. But I should have known better.

And if you read my public blog, you know the kid is fantastically amazing. This blog is not about him.

But now that I am in the throws of a relationship that literally reaches the epitome of my idealistic relationship ideals, and I am serious about that, the epitome in every level of emotional, worldy, intellectually and physically, I want to take my entire dating past and sacrifice it to the gods of stupidity of which I was obviously paying tithe to. I’m more angry that my past has the ability to torture us. That’s not fair to someone who is so good to me.

I’ve thrown my tantrum now. I’m staying home with the sleeping child. Mr. D. is off to the birthday gathering filled with exquisitely interesting and intelligent characters and it sucks I’m missing the conversation around the “cigars, friends and patron at the condo” that literally can’t happen often due to the overseas location of two of them.

We were in a cafeteria and instead of taking food off the buffet, somebody demanded something to be made special. Green peas and smurf blue sauce that we called Indian food. One Indian woman was nervous that her husband had just showed up. Another man leaned over to tell me he would not be cheating on his wife with me because he wore a necklace with a cross on it.

Cut to: We’re trying to find a place to set the couch down. Outside. For the Polyphonic Spree concert we were throwing in the backyard.

Nearby the concert was a barn. We went to the barn. There was a pregnant sheep and I pointed out something was different. She gave birth to three small sheep and a tiger… head. But, an alive and happy head.

I don’t know where to begin. I feel like there should be some precursor but all I really have are the ground rules. It’s my unhumble opinion they are the unwritten guidelines for basic humanity as well as the Happy Universe, and maybe that’s what I’ll call them from now on. It’s a rather spectacular Life free of most of the things that can hurt you. And here is exactly how to find it:

1. Be as honest as you can be with yourself about everything.

2. Be as honest as you can with everyone around you.

Lies are a game of pretend that doesn’t end. There is no big Lie or small Lie, dishonesty is a suicide attempt on your morality and your life and is as good as attempted murder of another’s soul if you Lie to them. Or yourself. If you have told a Lie then you have felt the Guilt, which is the equivalent of the Universe strapping a boot to your tire and keeping you on the curb for all the world to see, for all the world to randomly lean on you and for all the birds to shit on.

3. Shed the negative speak.

Participating in negative speak about anything is like swimming in quicksand. For a second, it is a novel feeling. “Omg, I can’t believe I’m in quicksand! I can’t wait to tell the folks back home! I can’t wait to blog about my quicksand moment! This actually feels kind of cool! QUICKSAND! CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT?!”

Then, of course, you’re sucked in far enough and you die. This is a metaphor.

And in my unhumble opinion negative speak equates gossip, judgement, long elaborate discussions on the Denial train, and it can be from cell phone to cell phone about a friend, instant message conversations about last night, or too much indulgence of stalking a celebrity rehab trainwreck on network television. No matter how close or involved or not involved, it sets the tone for a way of thinking and speaking that always leads to an acceptance of negative speak which will breed like nasty cockroaches and take over your house and your head and your heart and before you know it you’re a big ole pile of nuclear cockroaches and, “OMG I TOTALLY CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SURROUNDED IN COCKROACHES AND SINKING IN QUICKSAND!”

And that’s it.

Don’t lie and don’t talk about the Unnecessary. “Unnecessary” is really what negative speech is to me. Unnecessary speech. Wastes of breath that do more harm than good. Being conscious about these things will lead to realizing our species is practically addicted to the Unnecessary idea, and shedding that addiction is like losing 100 pounds in a week.

I’ve always been rather protective of myself and now that I’ve bred and found my “life partner” I’m protective of them too. Which means, I will slay any negative speech, useless speech or lies, regardless of their context or where they’re coming from or what they’re about or who they involve or what kind of electronic device they are delivered on as vehemently as I would shoot a tiger in the head if it wanted my family for lunch.

Because I fight for the things I love and I fight for truth and happiness and as full of cheese as that sounds, it doesn’t take away the Fact that it is Reality and if you don’t believe me, then you haven’t found happiness yet. Can I get an “Amen.”

It was over a decade ago that I shed that 100 pounds and lived completely in the Happy Universe where I attracted good things, good ideas, good people, good relationships and where Happiness and Contentment were not something I was hoping I would be, rather it was something that I actually was. In a tangible sort of way. Go ahead, hold my hand. It’s happy. You can feel it.

No, I didn’t read a book and no I’m not immune to the pitfalls and tragedies of the world. The difference is, I’m not afraid of the pitfalls. At all. I know that my side wins.

And as a warning, I’m going to keep my soapbox around for a while right now and I’m going to keep my gun really close because I see Tigers lurking in the forest and I’m not afraid to shoot them. Keep your distance. This is not a metaphor.

…the stage where one realizes it’s either bossy/mean or overly-sensitive (and oh could we get there sooner than later?), but it seems it was not overlooked after all. And upon further reflection, I’m wondering how much any of us really move through this stage…if maturity is really more a factor of social constraints than actual psychological development.

Meh. Humans are complicated.

Who do you blame when your kid is a brat
Pampered and spoiled like a siamese cat
Blaming the kids is a lie and a shame
You know exactly who’s to blame